After the War
by Proclamation
Summary: Two Fett clones discuss their fates after the Clone Wars has ended.


**AU: A short story, and also my first Star Wars story. I suppose it's a one shot, although I wanted to write more about these two.**

_Senate District Garrison_

_19 BBY_

"What do you think will happen after the war?"

"I dunno… If we win, establish the peace that once was. If we lose…"

CT-1379 slammed his fist down on the table, and it made the clone sitting across with him start, with a little edge of agitation,

"Hey!" Shouted CT-3624, glaring at his comrade and taking a few quick breaths. "Don't do that. You know I hate surprises."

"And yet we call you Shock." Grumbled CT-1379, running a hand through his short hair. The man seemed to have soothed from his rather incensed outburst, but his lips had procured an unpleasantly intense frown.

"What's wrong?" Inquired Shock, and he looked down at the holographic pieces, each anxiously waiting to move. It was still CT-1379's turn.

"I've just been thinking…" Began CT-1379, and Shock groaned.

"This is why you had to repeat your shooting test twice, Ponder." The man began to mimic their early Mandalorian teachers, "Too much thinking, and not enough blasting a clanker away."

"I'm serious, Shock." Growled Ponder, gaze narrowed as he focused on his brother. "I'd like to be taken seriously for once. Is that so hard?"

Rolling his eyes, Shock nestled his head into the palms of his hands, each on either of his cheeks: the posture of a man who wouldn't argue against being somewhere else, "Right. Sorry. What've you been thinking about?"

With a sharp exhale, Ponder finally made a move, and watched as Shock's holographic rancor crushed his feeble varactyl. Ponder's mood soured.

"What happens after this war's over?" He rephrased his earlier question, and then added quickly, as Shock was bound to give a negligent answer, "What happens to –us- I mean."

There was a moment's silence as Shock moved his flagship piece, the rancor, forward. The clone grinned briefly as it obliterated yet another one of Ponder's pieces, this time a blistmok. Shock's momentary satisfaction faded away as he began to comprehend Ponder's words.

"What do you mean?" The clone asked, tone getting a bit high like it always did when he became annoyed.

"Us, Shock. What happens to us clones? Do we go back to Kamino? Do we get to retire and live out the rest of our lives like… like normal people?"

Shock was wearing a full frown now, and it was as thoughtful as it was impatient. "Normal? We are normal… I mean, okay, we aren't normal. We were bred for combat, Ponder. That's just the way it is." The man seemed satisfied with this answer, and he drummed the tabletop with his fingers. "Don't worry about the future, because it sure isn't certain."

"We HAVE to think about the future, man!" Ponder exclaimed, throwing his hands up and nearly overturning the dejarik board. Shock reeled back in his seat, and almost fell from the chair. "Don't you see?" Ponder continued in an enraged hiss, brown eyes burning with an unsettling passion, "I don't want to fight all my life! I've walked through the villages on Ryloth and Concord Dawn! I've witnessed the joy families experience when they've had a successful harvest!" The man bit down hard on his lower lip, pausing. "I don't want to become some glorified policeman!"

Shock, who had recovered from his bewilderment, cursed under his breath,

"For goodness's sake, Ponder, I told you not to surprise me!"

"Sorry." Replied the other man, and he massaged his eyes with his index finger and thumb.

The two clones sat in jarring stillness, the discomfiting reality of the topic finally settling into the head of one of them.

The comm on the table came to life, and its light blinked as a commander's harsh voice barked through:

"Torrent Squad, this is Commander Appo! This is a direct order from the Supreme Chancellor himself. Members of the 501st shall rendezvous in Temple District at the following coordinates: 556,768. Weapons are to be loaded and readied."

Shock's hand swiftly grabbed the comm and spoke.

"This is Sergeant Shock, Commander Appo. We shall be there soon, sir!"

A heartbeat later, Commander Appo responded,

"Good man. Now get moving!"

The comm buzzed a few moments after this, then stopped blinking.

Standing, Ponder reached for his helmet that had been discarded on the empty seat beside him. The man slowly put the helm on his head, the T-shaped visor glinting in the light.

"I wonder why weapons need to be readied. Some kind of CIS-sympathizing crackdown?"

"Maybe," Responded Shock bluntly, his helmet already on and his hand reaching for the DC-15 blaster rifle that was propped against his chair, "Although I don't know why the Jedi aren't doing it. Those coordinates are right next to their temple. I wonder why we're being sent there."

"Now look who's starting to do some thinking instead of blasting." Quipped Ponder, the smirk on his lips hidden by his helmet.

Shock walked for the exit of the garrison, pointedly ignoring his brother's jab, and punched a few digits into the door's control panel.

"Y'know, Ponder; if I had to choose between saving you or a Jedi, I'd choose the Jedi."

"I'd shoot him first."

The two clones let out deep, rumbling chuckles before leaving.

**AU: Yeah, so, I hope you enjoyed it. **


End file.
